Now the Pattern Shapes (An Image of True Life)
by NikkiNeedsHelp
Summary: Will's laying in bed beside Hannibal, unable to sleep. This leads to too much thinking and revelations only found at 2:13 a.m. Things go from there. (Hannigram)


First story in a while! This title is from a Combichrist song, "Throat Full of Glass." This song is inexorably linked to Hannigram in my mind. So go listen to it, they're totally one of my favorite bands. I'm also shopping around for a beta to read some stuff as I don't have a permanent one. I'm also gonna go ahead and apologize because any and all mistakes are my own as this piece is completely unbeta'd. So read it and leave me a review, please? Also, this is posted on AO3 under my name there: DarlingNikki.

Here's a fact. Will knows that there is something off about Hannibal. He knows that a man that perfect, with that blank of a poker face, has something to hide. It's more than likely something fairly horrific, since you don't become that skilled without a very good reason. Will doesn't actually want to know though. He is utterly content in his ignorance. He loves waking up next to Hannibal and getting to see him with his usually perfectly slicked back hair sticking up on one side with a little bit of dried drool at the corner of his expressive lips. Hannibal being human, is a secret that he enjoys being a part of, and he could not bear to lose.

With Hannibal by his side, Will can sleep without waking up shaking in terror at the visions his fertile imagination provides. He doesn't need to change shirts multiple times every night. He doesn't need to lay down towels to prevent him from ruining his mattress with the sour smell of sweat. He sleeps, and wakes up feeling rested. Before this, he's not sure how many years he spent perpetually tired due to his poor sleepless nights and bad habits. It's a relief and a luxury. It's a release from all the stress that he's been under due to Jack's constant pushing regarding the Chesapeake Ripper case.

The FBI is no closer to catching the Ripper than they were when they first connected the various murders and realized that they were dealing with a serial killer in the first case. It drives Jack completely mad and frothing at the bit to catch this particular monster. Whoever the Ripper is, they are utterly meticulous in making sure that there is no useable evidence left behind - no prints, no hair samples, nothing. The Ripper has no discernible pattern with how his victims are chosen. They are not from the same gender, race, or even social class. They are not clustered in a specific geographical pattern. The Ripper can even choose to go dormant for months or years at a time, it's not a compulsion that controls his entire life. The only thing connecting the victims is the sheer rage and brutality harnessed to end them, the utter disgust and disdain at their humanity. The Ripper reduces his victims to chattel. He destroys them completely. The best criminal profilers in the country cannot figure his motives out. They are completely and utterly stumped. They can't even figure out what his motivations and purpose for taking the victim's organs as trophies are.

Something hovers at the edge of Will's consciousness. Something, an idea, is hovering, germinating there. If he can just focus, he can grasp it. For whatever reason, the taste of the freshly homemade sausage seasoned with sage that Hannibal made for breakfast this morning lingers on his tongue. Sausage traditionally uses the cleaned intestines of an animal as the other casing, then it is filled with ground up pieces of organ meats. There is an ugly truth found here.

The Chesapeake Ripper is eating his victims. All of the organ trophies taken have been pieces that could be eaten, even if they are a little more adventurous than what the average American is willing to partake of. The heart, lungs, and oh god, Will's thoughts stutter, the most common trophy the Ripper takes, the liver can be eaten. Will's even ate most of these organs recently, through Hannibal's exquisite culinary exploits. Hannibal's recent culinary masterpieces, the thought makes Will's mind go blank. The recipes Hannibal has cooked recently, he compares the menus to the trophies taken from the victims.

They match.

They match perfectly.

A hysterical giggle escapes his throat. He can't contain it. They match and several seemingly innocuous comments Hannibal has made in the past take on a much more sinister tone, an altogether hellish cadence. Will can taste ashes on his tongue. He should get out of bed, this instant, and call the cops. He should restrain Hannibal. He should leave before Hannibal wakes up and sees that has figured out his secret.

He doesn't do any of these things. Will is so sick of being so very alone, even when surrounded by people. He's finally found someone who loves him, understands him, and doesn't seem bothered by the implications of his terrible empathic gifts. Will's mind goes through the possibilities of Hannibal being arrested. The thought of Hannibal behind bars means that Will will have to go back to being alone. Will won't have anyone beside him anymore, instead he will be shunned for being so very blind, not realizing that his lover is a monster. These thoughts reach an inevitable end, that Hannibal would be put to death. Will cannot let this happen. So instead of doing anything with the knowledge he now holds, he rolls over and snuggles closer to Hannibal's side. Hannibal's arm lazily drapes over his side, and Will can feel Hannibal's breath on the nape of his neck. Will closes his eyes and tries to quiet his thoughts and drift back to sleep. He hopes that sleep will help him forget this and think that this shattering breakthrough is just a fever dream. Eventually he succeeds in going back to sleep.

In the morning when he wakes, he remembers everything from his mental breakthrough clearly. He pretends it was just a dream when he walks to the kitchen and finds Hannibal plating up fresh peach crepes with the homemade sausage on the side. He doesn't say a word to Hannibal. Instead he goes on as if nothing had happened.

His breakfast is delicious.

Things continue on as they normally do in Hannibal and Will's lives.

Time passes, a day, then a week, and finally almost an entire month.

Will wakes up to breakfast homemade by Hannibal. Will goes into work at Quantico and lectures the best and brightest upcoming stars of the FBI about criminal profiling and how to catch serial killers. He helps Jack catch killers and put them away. He tells no one about how his realization about who exactly the Chesapeake Ripper is. He pretends he doesn't know, even if the knowledge is sitting in the back of his mind, on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't even bring it up to Hannibal.

There is no easy way to look your lover in the eye, and say that you know they are a murderer, and that they eat their victims. It is simply too insane to have an easy way to bring it up. Which is probably what leads to Will finally just blurting it out with no finesse or planning one night at dinner, while they are eating a lovely dish of coq au vin that Will is fairly certain came an accountant who's artfully displayed corpse was found last week with coins in the place of his intestines and proof of his crimes embezzlement from his clients in his house.

He's fairly certain that was a Ripper case. The artistry was immense. It was a monument to the ugliness that money drives men to. It helped to pinpoint it as a Ripper kill due to the missing organs, and the chunks of his muscular thighs that were also missing certainly helped make the picture clearer.

"So what made you decide to start killing people and feeding them to your guests?" Will cuts another bite off his plate and puts it in his mouth, chewing deliberately. He decides that the look on Hannibal's face, unguarded shock, is worth lacking a plan for where this conversation may end up. It's not an expression he's ever seen Hannibal display, he is always so composed, even when he's having sex, so shock is an entirely new look on him.

Hannibal regains his composure quickly, and arches an eyebrow at Will. "I have no idea what you're talking about." But Hannibal's hands tighten around his knife, showing the lie for what it is.

"I figured it out a few weeks ago. We were in bed, but I couldn't sleep, and your design finally became clear." Will eats another bite. "It's really quite brazen to feed the exact organs to people involved in the investigation so soon after the murders happen."

Hannibal sets the knife down, but still within easy reach. "But until you, no one noticed, not even Uncle Jack or Alanna, and they've been eating at my dinner parties for far longer than you have." He smirks, "They never connected the dots, but you, you don't seem all that bothered in knowing what your dish is made of."

Will meets Hannibal's eyes, "I can't be alone again." He looks back down at his food, "You've made my life better, even knowing what you are and what you do, you've made me not alone." Now it's Will's turn for his hands to tighten convulsively around the silverware. His voice sounds like he has swallowed shards of broken glass and is trying to get the words out around them, "I need you."

Hannibal laughs, low and velvety, "You have me." Hannibal is genuinely pleased by this development. This is what he's been working towards and hoping for. Will is his, even as he sees the design.

Will doesn't know where to go from here, but he is done eating. He pushes his plate away, and gets up from the table and walks over to Hannibal. Hannibal pushes away from the table, and waits for Will to reach him. Will sets himself carefully in Hannibal's lap, and runs his hands through Hannibal's hair, guiding his lips to meet Hannibal's. The kiss starts chastely, but does not stay that way for long. Soon tongues are intertwined, and Will cannot help but let a strangled moan escape. Hannibal grips Will's waist tightly, pulling him closer, as he bites Will's lip hard enough to break the skin. He gently laves the blood from the wound.

Will squirms, this new side of Hannibal excites him, and can feel his cock hardening in his pants, straining to escape it's confines. He can feel that Hannibal is just as aroused as he his, but Hannibal has always had much better self control than Will does. It hardly seems to faze him. Will pulls away from Hannibal and once again looks him in the eyes. He can see all of Hannibal now, the reserved man and the brutal killer, both sides of the coin. Hannibal can see Will too, the loneliness, the pain, and the hunger that is now present that has nothing to do with the dinner they just ate.

Hannibal lifts Will off of his lap, and sets him on the table. He tugs at the buttons on Will's plaid shirt, popping several of them off in his haste to undress Will. The shirt is thrown somewhere behind them, the plain t-shirt underneath joining it quickly. Hannibal stands between Will's legs and kisses him again, tasting of the Pinot Noir wine that they had to compliment the coq au vin. His kisses trail away from Will's mouth quickly this time though, moving to his neck, biting again, but with less force behind it. He rolls one of Will's nipples between his fingers tugging and pinching before moving his hand lower to palm against the erection that is aching between Will's legs.

He carefully unzips Will's pants before pulling them and Will's underwear down in one smooth motion to lie discarded at their feet. Hannibal presses a soft open mouthed kiss against the hair that starts at Will's belly button, he licks his way down. When he takes the head of Will's cock into his mouth, Will's mouth falls open and his head rolls back. Thought is rapidly dwindling down to sparks of pleasure from the attention that Hannibal lavishing on Will's weeping cock. It may be slightly dangerous to let a cannibal swallow Will whole, but it is one of the most erotic sights of his life to see Hannibal's head bobbing between his thighs.

Will is tingling from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, and he feels his balls tightening in anticipation of cumming. He moans brokenly as he finally comes, watching Hannibal's mouth swallow him to the root and consume every last drop of semen that spurts out.

Will smiles as Hannibal pulls away and reaches for the napkin discarded by Will's hand on the table, so he can politely wipe the corners of his mouth to catch any saliva that may have escaped. "I'm in love with you no matter what happens."


End file.
